We Might Not Make It Home Tonight
by onemilliongoldstars
Summary: He's furious. Furious with himself. Furious that he took so long to work out his feelings. Furious that the time they had was fleeting. Furious that the fates would take her before her time.


**Title: We Might Not Make It Home Tonight**

**Rating: K+**

**Summary: ****He's furious. Furious with himself. Furious that he took so long to work out his feelings. Furious that the time they had was fleeting. Furious that the fates would take her before her time.**

**Prompt: St Berry Week- Care Bears.**

**Erm… this is kinda sad. Just a warning.**

**Disclaimer: Obviously I do not own Glee, if I did Jesse would still be there and St. Berry would be alive and kicking. But he isn't. From this we can conclude that I don't own Glee. **

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><p>When he first heard, he had been at home. It had been a normal day. He'd gone to rehearsal at the theatre, had to turn down the offer of a date from an extra who he knew had been pining for him since rehearsals had begun and, as it was Tuesday, he'd picked up his Italian from the take out on the corner. When the phone call had come, he'd had to sit down. It had felt as if his legs had been swept from beneath him and he'd felt his whole body tremble with the exertion of keeping himself upright. He'd felt the natural things. Fear; anguish; a deep, heart wrenching panic that filled him to his very core. But mostly, he'd felt as if his whole world was falling to tiny pieces around him.<p>

Now, sitting in the whitewashed waiting room of Lima General Hospital with only the clothes on his back and his cell, keys and wallet with him, he feels nothing. He's completely numb, like there's a shield coating him, his movements slow and sluggish. He makes no attempt at conversation and has even moved past that stage of deep, burning anger against the receptionist, who refuses to let him in unless he's been completely screened and only during visiting hours. He'd screamed, he'd threatened, he'd bribed, but nothing had gotten past the middle aged woman and so he sat, refusing to be moved, in the waiting room.

He has no idea how long he's been there. Maybe an hour? Probably longer. He knows that his back is hurting from his position on the uncomfortable seats; elbows on knees and head in his hands. There's a brightly coloured, information poster on the wall a little to his left and the barrage of colours is almost insulting to his eyes after hours of staring blandly at the featureless walls of the hospital. When Shelby had called him earlier that day… or was it yesterday now? He doesn't really care. Shelby's call had come from nowhere. After severing all ties from Ohio, Jesse St James had been extremely surprised to find that Shelby Corcoran was calling him again and demanding that he return. Was he knew the facts, it hadn't taken him long to decide. Barely a second, in fact.

Frustrated, he runs a hand through his tousled curls and lets out a frustrated noise, glancing up when he sees a smaller nurse stood above him, watching him cautiously.

"What?" His voice is terse and sharp with stress and he cringes as he feels it scrape roughly against his throat.

"I just wondered if you wanted to freshen up a little sir?" She shifts nervously from foot to foot and glances at him with wide eyes. "We have a washroom that we use when we're on long night shifts, you're welcome to use it if you want."

Jesse blinks at him in surprise and is about to decline. But as he moves slightly he can feel the tense muscles in his neck and shoulders, sending jarring pains through him and the grittiness of his eyes. He surely looks an absolute mess and he nods slowly, unable to smile at the woman, but standing and gesturing for her to take the lead.

He feels fresher when he's splashed his face with freezing water and, bracing himself against the sink, he steels himself and checks his reflection. Just as he suspected, he looks like a mess. Deep lines of sorrow and anguish run through him, echoed back through his eyes, which are framed by heavy bags that betray his lack of rest. His hair is tousled, but not in a sexy way, in a way that suggests he's been dragging his hands through his hair repeatedly, which he has. He tries to flatten his hair and straighten his clothes, but there's really nothing more he can do, so he leaves, thanking the nurse and making his way back to the waiting room.

When he arrives, he stops short in the waiting room. In front of him is Kurt Hummel, as plain as day. He's changed, although not much. His fashion sense is still as erratic and the bright blues and purples of his extravagant outfit are like a breath of fresh air in the dank hospital, in which everything is neutral. He's still got some of his boyish innocence and slender frame though, so when Jesse sees him, he recognises him immediately and he cant help it when Kurt's name slips from his lips.

Turning, Kurt catches sight of him and his mouth drops open as he says, his eyes wide. "Jesse! What are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Jesse's voice is sharp and there's a tension running through him that is obvious.

Kurt's eyes soften considerably and he says, gently. "It's good to see you again Jesse."

"You too," Jesse allows himself the smallest of smiles.

"Although the circumstances are dreadful," Kurt's expression darkens. "How did you find out?"

"Shelby." Is all Jesse says, his mouth thin.

"Mr Hummel?" The receptionist peers at Kurt and says. "She's ready now?"

Jesse steps forward to interrupt as a flush of adrenaline runs through him, but Kurt beats him to it. "Mr St James will be coming in with me. He's an old… friend."

The nurse eyes them both questioningly, but under Jesse's bleak gaze and Kurt's firm words, she nods and ushers them through. As they walk down a long corridor, Kurt asks.

"How long have you been here? You look exhausted."

Jesse shrugs, his tread heavy on the tiled floor beneath him. "I came as soon as I heard. He eyes Kurt's outfit again. It looks even more ridiculous under the cheap fluorescent lighting. "What's with the outfit?"

"She asked me to dress as I usually would. She wanted to see that part of me until the very end." His gaze is set steadily forward, but his voice breaks on the last word, betraying his emotions and, as Jesse glances away, he sees Kurt swipe at a tear on his cheek.

When they arrive at the door to her room, they stop suddenly and Kurt says. "Let me go in first and tell her okay?"

Jesse can only nod because, for most likely the first time in his life, his voice has been stolen from him. A tightness grips him, pulling at his stomach sickeningly as Kurt enters and disappears behind the door. He can hear the soft exchange of words through the thin walls and it seem like both a moment and millennium until Kurt returns, ushering him into her room with the words. "She;s feeling a little better today."

Jesse takes a faltering step forward and stops at the open doorway, as if glued there. She's in bed, of course. His angel, swallowed by the comforters and sheets piled on top of her, her dark hair tousled and knotty, a stark contrast to the off white of the sheets and the pale pallor that's settled over her face. There are tubes _everywhere_. Sticking into her in all different places and the constant, insistent beeping that he knows instinctively is a heat monitor. She gives him a small smile from her position and says, an incredible relief in her weak voice.

"Jesse."

That's all it takes. His name. Whispered between cracked lips. In a moment he's stumbling to the bed, his hands reaching blindly for her and she takes him to her without hesitation, cradling his head against her breast and soothing him as a mother would a scared child. And that's what he feels like: a scared child. Lost and frightened and desperate. His hands hold her to him, probably hurting her with their intensity, but she doesn't complain once. Deep, heart wrenching sobs fall from him and in a moment he feels the barriers he's built up around himself crumble to the ground. Because she's here, in his arms and what's really heart breaking is that fact that even though he's only just got her back he's going to lose her again sometime soon. But she feels different. She's tender, breakable, a word he would never have associated with her. She smells different too, drenched in her hospital gown and with the faint scent of disinfectant clinging to every surface in the room.

"You can't." He tells her finally, his voice muffled by her night gown.

"I know," She placates him gently. "I know."

And then she just holds him and strokes his hair gently, his fingers teasing through each strand gently. He's not sure how, but somehow they end up on her bed together, holding each other tightly around the cords in her arms. He's still holding her, but her hands are on his face and as she traces lines on his face, it feels as if she's trying to learn every inch of him. He still lets out a guttural sob every few minutes but she, by comparison, is quietly calm, soothing.

"I won't let you go." He tells her at some point and although the statement is completely ridiculous, he's being serious.

"I'll always be with you." She tells him and he refuses to look into the deeper meaning in her words, only holding her tighter to him as if he's able to keep her from her fate by holding her to him.

They're interrupted hours later when a nurse enters with medicine for her and he is forced, unwillingly, to move away from her. When the nurse is done, they talk. They talk for hours, because if he's honest, he's not sure if he'll get the chance much any more.

"I'm so sorry," He tells her softly, back on the bed beside her again, holding her in a tender embrace.

"I forgive you." She says, instantly and he squeezes her gently.

"You can't forgive me that easily," He protests weakly.

Looking up, she fixes him with eyes that are tender with emotion, but full of a world weary sadness that makes him feel as if he's going to fall apart again. "There's not much point in keeping grudges. I figured that out quite recently."

He just holds her in response and tries to keep her from seeing the tear that falls down his already stiff cheeks.

"How did you find out?" She asks him, at some point.

"Shelby." Is all he says and she nods slowly, as if this explains everything.

"You should have told me." His hands pull her tighter to him and he buries his head in her hair. Now that he's got used to the hospital smell, he can still smell her, very faintly and he knows that he scent will cling to his clothes for hours.

She shrugs a little beneath him, "I didn't know whether… you cared."

"Rachel," He moves away slightly and fixes her with an intense expression. "I would have cared. I always have. I missed you _so much_ in New York."

"I missed you too," Her voice is softer than his and he feels her hands tighten over his. "I don't really see the point in not telling you, I think I love you Jesse. I think I always have."

And with that, he feels himself fall apart again. He's sobbing into her and he can feel the whole bed shaking beneath him with the force of the spasms that rock his body. She pulls him closer, slight alarm evident in her voice when she asks.

"Jesse, did I say something wrong?"

He shakes his head roughly, clinging to her with a kind of desperation that is becoming uncomfortably familiar over the course of the day.

"Jesse?" She isn't letting him get off easily this time, turning within his embrace to force him to look at her. "What is it? Please?"

He tries to turn away but her small hands are strangely strong as they cup his cheeks, making him look up at her. He keeps his eyes downcast, almost ashamed that he's so fragile whilst she is still calm, collected.

"You don't have to say it back," Her voice has dropped to a murmur and he can hear the return of uncertainty that he recognises from their time together in high school. "I just need people to know, before… you know."

"I do," His heart clenches and for a second he can't breathe, so he crushes her against his chest for a moment. When he speaks he won't look at her, for fear that he'll break down again. "I always _have_. But I didn't know that _you_ did… Rache… it was so much easier when you… when I thought that this was one sided. When I thought there was nothing between us… but now that I know that you… I just… _can't._"

"It was easier when you thought there was no chance for us." He feels her thin arms press into his back and a deep, weary sigh runs through her. Pulling away slightly, she encourages him to turn and look at her, her hand running gently over his forehead to brush away a wayward curl. "I have to tell you Jesse. I _have_ to. Because…" For the first time since he walked through the door he hears her voice crack and sees the faint flicker of deep sadness over her features. She gathers herself, and says, her voice stronger. "Because… I don't know how long I have left." Her voice cracks again and a tear spills down her cheek. At her words a whimper of pain is torn from him. "And… isn't it better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all?"

"Don't," The word is harsh with emotion, ripped from him. "Don't say that. Just don't."

"We have to accept it," Her words are broken by tears now and he can feel them falling through his fingers where his hands are holding her face. She closes her eyes for a moment, pain rippling through her face. "It's an inevitability."

"_No!" _He stands quickly, startling her. She's using his words against him, twisting them. Those words have always meant something to him, but now when he hears them, he'll always associate it with this. "Don't say that!"

"Rachel?" A familiar voice comes through the room and when he turns, Jesse sees that Hiram Berry is looking at them in consternation. "Everything okay?"

"Please Jesse," Rachel ignores her father and sits up slowly in bed, cringing at the pain it caused through her weakened muscles. "You need to accept it… I have."

"Well you've had a lot more _time_ haven't you?" He snaps, blazing with anger. "I've had a day Rachel! A _day_!"

"Jesse don't… please… I need this time to be happy." She's so desperate, pleading even, but he suddenly can't stand the sight of the room, of the whole building and everything it represents.

"I'm going for some air." He mutters, turning on his heel and stalking past Hiram and out into the corridor.

The fresh air helps. It's calm and soothing and he sits for a little while in the hospital grounds, letting the cool air brush him gently. The sky above is a bland, watery blue, but the sun is shining and he thinks that it's a little perverse that the sun should shine on such an awful day. It feels like it should be raining or thundering because he feels like his whole world has been turned upside down and shaken. But out here, in the real world, it's like nothing has changed. People go about there business without a second glance at him. The patients who he can tell are obviously near to death have an air about them… sort of peaceful and accepting, as if nothing could ever worry them. And he hates it because he recognises it. This is what Rachel is like.

When he journeys back inside and starts towards her door he's surprised when he feels something collide with his back and propel him into the wall closest to him. He splutters and turns to face his assailant, but finds himself being held against the wall by his collar. In front of him, Rachel's other father, Leroy Berry is snarling angrily.

"Leroy," He splutters, trying to catch his breath.

"You little dick." Leroy spits at him, slamming him backwards into the wall and he flinches as he feels the collision in the back of his head. "You think that you can just come in here and upset her like that? You think that you have any right to make her feel any worse than she already does?"

"I didn't know!" He snaps back. "I didn't know until last night and now I'm here and she's saying I should just accept it. How am I meant to accept that the love of my life is going to die?"

"You do what we all do," Leroy growls at him, shaking him roughly. "You _pretend_. You think any of us can bear this? You think Kurt can stand watching his best friend waste away before him? You think that Hiram and I can watch our little girl die and just be able to _accept it?_ Newsflash." Leroy shook him again. "We can't." Jesse opens his mouth to protest but Leroy cuts through him. "Don't you go spouting that crap to me about not having any time. You think that time makes it any easier? It doesn't. It will _never_ get any easier, so you're just going to go in there and do whatever the hell she wants you to because this is all about _her_, okay? Whatever she wants, she gets and at the moment, though God help me I have do idea why, she wants _you_."

Leroy lets him go, thrusting him in the direction of the door and fixing him with a glare until he nods slowly, straightening his clothing and pushing open the door.

She's asleep when he comes in and Hiram is sat with her, holding her hand. The pair exchange a long look and finally Jesse nods and says. "I know."

Hiram's eyes soften a little and he nods back and stands, laying Rachel's hand gently on the comforter beside her. Once he's gone Jesse takes her hand and sits to wait for her to wake up. It takes her about twenty minutes before she suddenly starts from a deep sleep, her heart rate monitor beeping wildly as her eyes cast around frantically.

"Rachel?" He reaches for her slowly and her eyes snap to him, her expression softening once she catches sight of him.

"Jesse…" She breathes softly and suddenly there are tears falling down her cheeks. "You came back."

"Of course," He clambers into the bed beside her, reaching for her and holding her tightly to him, as he had done earlier that day. "Of course I came back. Don't cry sweet one, please don't cry."

"I was so… so afraid." Her voice breaks over her words and he can feel her shaking in his arms. It's like the bursting of a dam- these sudden tears. Like she's been holding them in for so long that they are falling uncontrollably.

"Afraid of what?"

"In my dream… I was… I _died_." She utters the word softly, like it's taboo and he pulls her closer, kissing the top of her soft hair.

"Why were you afraid?" He asks, stroking her hair gently, from scalp to shoulder.

"It was all so dark… and cold… and I was so scared. I never got to say goodbye to you… my daddys… Kurt…" She burrows into him, hiccoughing lightly and there's a long thoughtful silence as he considers for a moment.

"I'm not religious Rachel, so I don't really know what I think about dying, I've never had to think about it before." A dry bark of laughter escapes him. "But… I don't think it's going to hurt. It will be peaceful… like falling asleep. And if you want me to… I'll be there all the way through. You won't be alone Rache."

Pulling away, she smiles at him and says, her voice weak. "I'd like that."

"Whatever you want," He tells her softly, hugging her closer. "Anything you want."

It's a few hours later when the nurse peers around the door and says that visiting hours will finish in ten minutes and he'll have to go. He tries to argue, but, seeing the way Rachel's eyelids droop and her cringes of pain when she moves, he doesn't press the case.

Sighing regretfully, he clasps her hands in his. "I wish I didn't have to go."

"Me too," She yawns and snuggles further into the comforter.

"Are you okay?" He fusses around her, unsure of what to do. "Are you comfortable?"

"Yeah," She yawns, burrowing further into the quilts. "Hey Jesse," She says, after a long moment of peaceful quiet, broken only by the heart rate monitor.

"Mmm?" He rubs his thumb gently across the silken skin on the palm of her hand.

"Do you remember that Care Bear I bought you?"

He chuckles a little at the memory. "Sure, I remember."

"Do you still have it?" Her eyelids are drooping now and her voice is slow and slurred with drowsiness from both the drugs and the exertion of the day.

"I'm not sure, maybe at home, in New York."

She smiles slightly. "I never got to go to New York. When I finished school, I was too ill."

"I'll take you some day," He promises softly, kissing the back of her hand softly.

"Jesse? Will you do something for me?"

"Anything." He vows.

"Kiss me?"

He smiles gently and nods is agreement, lowering his head to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, then her nose and finally, ever so softly, to her soft, full lips. He lingers longer than he should and he knows that if the nurse catches them there will be hell to pay, but he really doesn't care. For the moment he just enjoys the taste of her again, the scent of her filling his nose and clinging to his clothing.

Finally, he pulls away and settles in the chair beside her. She smiles sleepily at him. "You're still a wonderful kisser," She tells him, reaching out to caress his cheek gently.

He can't think of a snarky comeback, not with her like this and so he just smiles, nodding slowly. "You too."

"Will you tell me about it? New York?" She settles onto her side in the bed so that she can face him and still hold his hand.

Agreeably, he nods and then thinks for a second before saying. "It's big."

She giggles, a sleepily, girlish sound that fills him with warmth. "I meant a little more than that Jesse."

"Okay, there are people. People everywhere. On every street, around every corner there are people of every race, religion and sexuality. There are people from all over the world and they all meet there, in what feels like the centre of the world. Central Park is massive Rache, like walking through the countryside and when you're at the deepest point you can't even hear the cars and the people. It's like you've suddenly gone into another world. And Broadway Rache," He sighs happily. "It's everything I've ever dreamed. It's like all that work has suddenly paid off and now that I'm there are know I'll never want to leave."

He carries on talking, still holding her hand tightly in his as he talks about the people who live near to him, the people he works with. He tells her about rehearsals and his director who is so similar to Shelby. As he talks a small crowd gathers at the door and when he notices that she's fallen asleep, he presses one last kiss to her hand and lays it gently beside her. The small crowd at the door is made up of nurses and Rachel's fathers, who stand at the door watching, with warm smiles on their faces. Checking the time, Jesse realises that he should have been gone half an hour ago and offer his apologies to the nurses.

"Don't worry about it." One replies, " it was just nice to see you two… That's probably the happiest we've ever seen her."

"Whatever she wants." Jesse fixes his gaze on Leroy. "I'd do anything for her."

"Well that's pretty obvious." The nurse laughs softly and ushers them out of the hospital.

Once they're out in the parking lot, Jesse turns to face the Berry men.

"I promised I'd return." He says simply.

"Whatever she wants." Leroy responds and gives him a small smile as he clambers into his car.

Hiram hesitates and turns to face Jesse, offering him a warm smile. "It would be easier if you stayed at our home Jesse. After all, we'll all be going to the hospital tomorrow and it's a long journey to Akron. We have a guest room if you want it?"

Jesse considers for a long moment, watching the man's face for any flicker of doubt or uncertainty. When he sees nothing but sincere, genuine kindness, he nods slowly.

"That would be great, thank you Mr Berry. Would you mind if I stopped at a store on the way back though? I need to grab something."

"No worries," Hiram gestures to the Range Rover that was the only thing he'd kept once he moved to New York. "You've got a car, we'll see you back home."

**Xxx**

The next morning he goes into hospital at a more respectable time and is accompanied by Hiram and Leroy Berry. In his hands is a gift for Rachel and he's almost looking forward to seeing her, under the heart ache. Watching her fall asleep beside him last night had been so extraordinarily peaceful that it's as if he too has picked up on some of her calm acceptance.

It's immediately obvious that something isn't right. The nurse that greets them outside her room is pale faced and solemn. When he glances into her room the bed is empty, stripped down to the mattress and he feels his knees buckle below him, a strangled cry leaving his lips as the Care Bear in his hands falls to the ground beside him with a soft thump.

There are hands on him, trying to pull him up, but he shakes them off, shouting obscenities and struggling away from the soothing caresses, the gentle embraces. He shouts and screams and suddenly he feels something sharp pierce his arm and the corners of his vision darken until he's pulled relentlessly into a numbing slumber.

When he awakes he's sitting in one of the plastic chairs available to visitors in the waiting room. Peering blearily he scans the room as he sits up slowly, trying to clear the fuzziness from his mind. Kurt is sat beside him, dressed in another ridiculous outfit, his eyes red rimmed and his lips tight.

"Rachel." His voice is soft as it slips from between his lips and Kurt turns to look at him, watching as understanding dawns.

"She's gone." Kurt's tone is blank and emotionless.

"Gone," Jesse repeats, slowly and turning, he glances down at the bear on the chair beside him. A tear spills down his cheek and Kurt puts a tentative arm around him, bringing him into a welcoming embrace where they hold each other and cry like the world is ending.

Because to him, it sort of feels like it is.

**Xxx**

It takes a month for the funeral to come around, mainly because Hiram is so broken up about it that he can't even say her name without becoming hysterical. Jesse stays at his uncle's for that month long period and keeps to himself, grieving through his piano. He hadn't touched his piano after he'd left Rachel in New York, but now the instrument is his only source of comfort. He's up for hours into the night mourning over it, letting his tears spill onto the ivory keys as he plays out his anguish.

Kurt comes to visit him at his parent's house and finds him composing melodies, sonatas, full blown, epic pieces and refusing to open the door to his music room. Kurt can only leave meals at the door and tell him, in no uncertain times, that Rachel wouldn't want him to be this way. That usually causes fits of fury and louder, more ostentatious melodies that last for hours on end.

Strangely, it's Leroy Berry that finally gets him to leave the room, by threatening to break the door down and saying that Rachel would hate who he's become. He storms out of the room in a fit of anger but the moment he sees Rachel's father standing before him, thin and pale, but still holding the same strength his daughter had always had, he falls to pieces. Leroy lets him cry for hours on end, holding him, rocking him and when he finally stops Leroy says, gently.

"It's time to move forward now, son."

The endearment, more than anything else, is what makes Jesse do as the older man says. He tells the theatre that he'll be taking a leave of absence and pulls back the curtains to the big windows in his music room. He spends a long time looking a pictures of them together and starts composing a piece again, the only difference being that this time he works on one piece, tweaking and chopping and changing until it sounds right.

Ironically it's Shelby who gets the funeral moving. The mother who has barely been in her life is there for her in death and really, with her ferocious, single minded approach things get done. They try to get him involved in the arrangements, but he refuses, spending his time at his piano, slaving away over his piece.

When he gets his invitation to the funeral it is hand delivered by Shelby. He is forced, by the rules of polite society, to invite her inside and offer her a coffee. She stands at the doorway to the kitchen, watching him as he boils the kettle and says, finally.

"She really broke you."

"No," He replies, keeping his eyes on the boiling water. "Her _death_ broke me."

Shelby doesn't refute the statement and they drink their coffee in silence until Shelby finally says.

"Pink."

"What?" He looks up at her, confusion breaking through his grief clouded mind for a second.

"The colour for her funeral. Wear some pink."

He thinks for a moment, but then says. "That's very Rachel."

"That's the point."

The funeral isn't exactly a happy event, but it's more cheerful than he would have expected. He pulls himself from his stupor and wears a pink shirt to abide with the dress code beneath his dark suit. Will Shuester talks about her time in glee club and Kurt talks about their friendship. Shelby talks about her briefly in her clipped, emotionless tone which he has learnt means that she's hiding her true emotions. He's called up then and he finds that he can barely stand when he gets up. Fortunately, he doesn't need to stand for long.

His one condition for talking at her funeral was that he do it on his own terms and her fathers had agreed with his sentiment, so when he gets up, he makes his way to a piano placed there for his particular use.

"There is no better way to describe Rachel than through music." He says, simply and starts on the melody he's been composing for weeks.

It's haunting and gentle, full of soft sweeps and the soprano that she so loved to sing and when he glances up he realises that on the screen behind him someone has put show of pictures of her up. As her smiling face gazes down at him, he feels tears pool in his eyes and closes them as he loses himself in what he has unconsciously named: 'Rachel's Song.'

When he finishes there's a long moment of silence and then suddenly her gorgeous voice breaks through the room. Someone is projecting a video of her singing up on the screen. She's on a stage somewhere, there's really nothing that really stands out about it. Her voice is gentle and soft and she's dressed in simple clothing.

"_What do you say to taking chances…"_

When she finishes there's another long silence and Jesse can see that most of the people in the hall, including him, have been reduced to tears.

Leroy stands to speak and Jesse makes his way numbly back to his seat, feeling that, even in death, Rachel Berry has managed to outshine them all.

**Xxx**

It's months later when he returns to her grave. The headstone is an angelic white that practically shines and he smiles when he sees a bunch of fresh tulips, pink and white, lying beside it. Her fathers come here often, he's willing to bet and keep the flowers fresh. Sighing deeply, he settles himself onto the ground, warmed by the sun's rays and takes a moment to think.

"I miss you." He says, his voice soft. The world around him is peaceful. He isn't religious, but he thinks that she can hear him, somehow. "I miss you so much. It's like… like you've taken a part of me with you or something." He sighs and runs his fingers through the blades of grass at his side. "I went back to the theatre, got my old role back. Apparently I play it with a new passion." He lets out a bark of dry laughter. "It's for you. All of it. Because you never got the chance to do it, because I know how much you wanted to." He caHE He can feel the tears choking up and tries to stifle them. "Sometimes I think I can hear you singing. I think I see you on a street corner, or on a park bench. It's not you of course." He drops his head to rest on his knees for a second. "Maybe it's masochistic, but your dads gave me a CD with recordings of you singing on it and I listen to it constantly. Sometimes it makes everything easier but sometimes it's like you've only just gone and I can't…" His voice catches and he takes a deep trembling sigh. "I almost forgot." Standing, he moves a few paces away from the headstone and leans forward. "I brought you something."

Carefully, he places the bright pink Care Bear beside the tulips and there it sits, smiling happily, the gold star on its chest sparkling in the dying rays of the sun.

"You were too precious for this world." He reaches out, almost as if to touch her, but then drops his hand. "But I'm a selfish enough bastard to want you back anyway."

With one last look at the headstone, he turns and, slowly, walks away.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay… don't hate me? Did you enjoy it? Please leave me a review!<strong>

**I have another one shot in the works and I'm just gonna say that it deals with the fiasco that is the Finchel marriage. Expect it sometime soon.  
><strong>

**Thank you :)**

**~ Ray**


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